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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727447">Verum Seri</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/athunderheart/pseuds/athunderheart'>athunderheart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work, Tabletop RPG - Fandom, cortex - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Character Study, Complete, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, OCs - Freeform, Original Characters - Freeform, Pining, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:42:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,609</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/athunderheart/pseuds/athunderheart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This short story sets the stage for how Eugene and Mavra's relationship ends up where it does at the beginning of our Vransaga campaign. An alchemy experiment sets them on the path to dealing with how they feel about each other and what that means when war is looming on the horizon.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eugene/Mavra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hypothesis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The courtyard was busy for an early afternoon. On an average day, the Wyvern Knights carried out their drills not long after breakfast and then were dispatched to their posts throughout Vranovagrad. That morning, though, a storm hung heavy in the sky above the keep, delaying activities around the castle while people tried to decide if the deluge would fall or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It never did, and now the sky was bruised by a few lingering clouds. The sun started to burn them away, leaving a strange smell in the air like ozone and baked earth. The shrill crash of weaponry on shields echoed off the walls as Knight-Captain Elisandre Vidov was finally able to direct sparring sessions between the knights. She was well distracted by the training at hand, or so Eugene hoped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d planned to wait in the courtyard while it was sparse so his idling wouldn’t be obvious. He tried to make himself as unobtrusive as possible while leaning against the bed of an empty cart, but amid the flurry of jostling chainmail and thrusting partisans, his stillness proved distracting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made it longer than he’d initially hoped — almost the entire drill. He’d lost sight of Elsie and begun to relax, wondering if maybe she’d seen her company performing admirably and left them to organize themselves for afternoon duties. The day was warm and he could feel sweat beading at the neckline of his undershirt. He started to shrug off his light overcoat and turned to toss it over the side of the cart when Elsie locked eyes with him from the courtyard gate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interested in our drills today?” she called out over the din of her subordinates. Her voice was cordial but her expression was one of annoyance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene straightened his posture and pulled his coat back on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard that Mavra’s scouts were returning today. I wanted to be here to receive them.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He realized she was carrying two bulging waterskins, as were the two Wyvern Knights following her. They seemed perplexed as to why they’d halted mid-errand, but upon recognizing Eugene, they mumbled greetings in low voices and offered shallow bows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lord Alchemist,” they said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded in curt acknowledgment before Elsie handed off her waterskins and waved her cohorts back to the practice space in the center of the courtyard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Distribute the water and tell everyone to get ready for assignments,” she shouted after them. She turned back to Eugene with arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He knew when he was being challenged, and even though their constant bickering was exhausting, she was in her element. She knew it too. Even in her simple training armor, the Knight-Captain was tall and imposing. A light sheen of sweat covered her brow but she was not out of breath. The mock fighting left a lively blush on her tan, freckled skin, and her bobbed hair, a deep rosy pink, was still impeccably pinned behind her ear. “Who told you when they’d be returning? Their assignment is secret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mavra sent a raven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would she send </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> a raven? She shouldn’t be sending extraneous messages and jeopardizing her team for no reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene furrowed his brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They found something beneficial to my research and she asked that I personally see that it was delivered to the laboratory.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t in the missive Father and I received. Why is she sending you separate correspondence?” Elsie asked, taking a step forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know why she sent it separately. She’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> sister. You should ask her,” Eugene responded, adjusting his spectacles. He tried to look unphased but couldn’t stop himself from fiddling with the rounded frames as they slid down the perspiration on the bridge of his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vidovs were deeply entrenched in the royal Vranovan court, and their military connections were a point of pride. Being left out of any loop was sure to ruffle their feathers, but Elsie’s face betrayed nothing but the smallest glint of agitation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment of tension pulled taut in the air between them. The knights began filing into lines to await orders, but Elsie made no move to break her gaze. Eugene finally walked away from her toward the inner gate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I must’ve misunderstood their return plans. When the scouts </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> arrive, please let me know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d walked only a few steps when Elsie said, just loud enough for him to hear, “They’re back already. Mavra too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused mid-step, but with a few deliberate strides, Elsie passed him, brushing shoulders just brusquely enough to let him know she was delighted to have the last word. “It’s not like they’re going to come through the front gate. They’re spies.”</span>
</p><p>-</p><p>
  <span>There was no delivery at the Institute’s laboratory, and Eugene felt properly foolish trying to covertly ply the palace couriers for information. It was difficult to ask if a package had arrived when he had no idea what kind of a parcel he should be looking for. He’d hoped to see Mavra coming or going from the lecture halls, but she was scarce. It was late afternoon when he gave up and retreated to his bedchamber.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was a privileged member of the royal court despite his low Myrkosi blood, so his quarters were comfortable, but he didn’t ask for anything extravagant. The princess would have him want for nothing, but he had no use for a full apartment or estate. A spacious room with a personal study was satisfactory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When entering his room, the first thing he saw was always the bank of large windows on the far wall. The plush curtains were drawn open so the mountains at sunset were in full view. The fading sun warmed the cliff sides with orange light, throwing the verdant forest below into such a deep shade that they appeared dark blue. Clouds piled around the peaks, fat from the storm that wouldn’t break, but they still gave the castle a wide berth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Eugene crossed the room and stood before the center window, laying his hand on the frame and taking a slow, deep breath. This high in the castle, the breeze coming off the mountain was strong, and even though it’d been a balmy day, the air smelled like cold water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally shrugged off his coat and draped it on his desk chair. As he did so, there was the slightest vibration in the air. Normally he would’ve put it to the minute rattle of a window frame or the rustle of parchment in his study, but this was a movement so furtive that he knew immediately it was a person and not a thing. The wind didn’t care if it shuffled the pages of an open book. Someone was in the room with him, and they didn’t want him to know yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without looking, he spoke in a calm, even tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d ask how you got in, but maybe it’s better if I don’t know who made you a key.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please. I’d be a sorry spymaster if I couldn’t pick a lock,” Mavra said from beside the chamber door. She approached until she was standing next to him at the window. Eugene smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d been in the palace long enough to change out of her traveling clothes. He briefly took in the sight of her; she wore a dark high-collared doublet and riding breeches. Plain and perfectly unmemorable but still impeccably tailored. Her lavender hair was bobbed, and her bronze complexion was dotted with a few prominent freckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did your team find what you needed in Shuran?” Eugene asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra crossed her arms and turned her back to the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not enough. I’m afraid I don’t have much good to report to the war council tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene winced. “It’s just the council for now. We don’t know for certain that a war will be necessary.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scowled and looked as though she had more to say on the matter, but instead she sighed and uncrossed her arms before drawing a small pouch from her waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t a total loss,” she said, dangling it between her and Eugene. “I know this is what you’re most interested in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held out his hand, and as she set the pouch in his open palm, his fingertips grazed her inner wrist. She didn’t immediately pull her hand back, instead meeting his eyes for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m grateful for whatever you’ve brought me, but I’m just glad you made it back safely,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A smile played at the corners of her mouth, but she broke eye contact and leisurely walked to a bookshelf, trailing her hand along the spines and assorted specimens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to open it? I brought it all this way,” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene sat at his desk and carefully upended the bag. Several glass vials rolled out and he held each one up to the light. He’d taught Mavra how to collect samples on her travels, and she always did an excellent job. All of the tubes contained small cream-colored flowers in various stages; some were dried, one was in a clear, preservative fluid, and one looked to be completely liquified. He squinted and held the preserved one closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is.” Mavra was openly grinning now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were Shurani Pearldrops. He’d read about them and seen illustrations, but they only grew under very specific conditions every fifty years or so. The next bloom wasn’t expected for at least a decade. He had theories about their medical and scientific utility, but without an actual specimen to examine, he’d never had a chance to test them.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How in the world…” Eugene trailed off as he turned the vials over in his hands, inspecting the integrity of the petals. They curled in on themselves to form a distinctive round bloom around the pastel pink stamen. “This is fantastic! A little earlier than predicted based on their last bloom, but imagine the possibilities! I have several compounds in mind that I think could be significantly augmented with a solution synthesized from-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rambled for another minute or so. Since she’d procured exotic metals and herbs for him on more than one occasion, Mavra was keen to much of his research. In return, he developed everything from poisons to smoke bombs for her elite spy network. As head of the royal alchemy institute, he supervised alloy enhancements, medicinal improvements, techniques to enrich rations — all things that were broadly helpful for an official army but didn’t always allow him to flex his more creative problem-solving skills. He wasn’t proud of it, but his favorite projects were the ones he devised for Mavra. To produce a toxin potent enough to stupify a guard but not kill them required finesse and cunning. Mavra had both in excess, and Eugene relished the chance to lend a delicate hand when needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood up to fetch some equipment when he noticed two larger bottles alongside the skinny vials. They were dark brown apothecary jars filled with liquid. Just as he reached for one, Mavra leaned across the desk and plucked it from his grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“While we were there, we received some very interesting intel from a local Shurani agent,” she said, making a show of examining the bottle. “She said Pearldrops used to be the key ingredient in verum seri.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sharp laugh escaped from Eugene. Mavra glared. He pushed his lips into a firm line to quell another outburst but failed to hide a small grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I apologize. I just... Truth serum?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She abruptly set the jar down on the table between them before walking to the window with her back to him. He frowned, watching her stern silhouette against the diminishing sunlight. He tried a gentler tone. “Such a thing would be a great asset, but we’ve tried drugs like that before. We both know that ‘truth serum’ is a misnomer. They make people highly suggestible at best, groggy and drunk at worst. It just doesn’t exist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon dusk would settle on the valley. He rose from his chair and began lighting a few lanterns and stoking the fire in the large hearth that took up most of the wall opposite his bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only noise in the room was the hiss of a log catching flame. He waited a moment longer by the fire before cautiously approaching her. His hands were clasped behind him, but as he watched her tense profile, he instinctively reached out toward the small of her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A synapse in his brain fired. He drew his hand back as if from a white-hot surface. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t something they did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quietly cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have laughed. I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We tested it in Shuran. It works.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra could manipulate a tortoise out of its shell, but there was no reason for her to overstate the use of a truth serum. She finally turned and looked at him. He searched her face to see if hurt lingered in her eyes, but they were dark and hard to read, black and shining like polished onyx in the firelight. “If you want more proof, let’s test it.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Experiment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>For science.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The moon was up now, its meager blue light drowned out by the crackling blaze of the hearth. Overlapping rugs of deep green, subtle mauves, and dark plum covered the stone floor in front of the fireplace where Eugene and Mavra sat across from each other. Supplies were spread between them on the woven carpets: a few glinting glass vials with droppers, a loaded syringe, smelling salts, and various anti-toxins just in case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was their ritual; they tested any new mind-altering formulas on themselves when they had the opportunity. Nothing lethal; they weren’t stupid. Some friends bonded over a shared pipe or a glass of wine, and they did that too occasionally, but this was a rite he didn’t dare risk with anyone else. Measuring the half-life of a sleep potion wasn’t something he was about to undertake in front of an audience of laboratory apprentices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He once misjudged the ratio of a sedative powder and was knocked unconscious for two days. Mavra made certain his duties were covered and fabricated a sudden trip he’d been called away on. Being vulnerable like that in front of any other colleague was unfeasible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t hold it over him because he never mentioned her episode with a panic vapor that had left her hallucinating horse demons throughout the tower. She’d barricaded herself in his room, raving and rambling about being trampled, so he’d stayed with her until the last spectral mare vanished back into the ether.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene rolled up his sleeve and swabbed antiseptic on the thickest part of his forearm. He loved the smell of it, sharp as a sip of clear spirits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What should I expect? Drowsiness? Dizziness?” he asked, readying the plunger of the syringe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The subject we observed was remarkably clear-headed,” she replied, “especially given that he was being interrogated by some of our most intimidating agents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene smirked. “Do you have any agents who aren’t intimidating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some embrace my methods faster than others,” she said. “I’m ready if you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded and took a slow, steady breath as he injected the serum. A slight heat buzzed under the skin of his arm, but it dissipated after a moment. He didn’t feel dizzy exactly, but the air held a strange clarity of light that he had to blink away. Mavra extended her hand slightly as he was trying to focus, probably judging whether she’d need to steady him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put down the empty syringe and let his sleeve cuff fall back down to his wrist. Straightening his back and placing his palms on his knees, he looked to Mavra and quickly nodded his head to let her know he was ready to try and lie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mavra,” he lied with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes but smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you born in Vranova?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, in this very castle if you can believe it.” More lies. The goal was to see how long he could keep up rapid fire untruths. It’d be useful to know how long an average adult man had before the serum activated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is the princess’s name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maria,” he lied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s my name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to formulate any name but Mavra, but the space behind his forehead tingled until it tumbled out of his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“M-mavra.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it was her turn to smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that, ser? You’re mumbling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He set his jaw and tried to say another name, but inwardly it was as if every way his mind turned, he could only see Mavra. The curve of her jaw. The light on her hair. He closed his eyes and it was like the letters of her name passed endlessly over the backs of his eyelids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mavra,” he whispered in an almost unrecognizable tone. He hadn’t meant for it to come out so low and choked. She gave him a quizzical look. He quickly turned to the fire and shook his head incredulously. “It’s incredible. I can’t quite explain it, but it must facilitate some kind of block in the mind, unbalancing a humor so that deception is impossible. I couldn’t even stay silent. It’s like it </span>
  <em>
    <span>compelled</span>
  </em>
  <span> me to tell the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you it worked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t believe you,” he said. The words came out so fast that he barely registered what he’d admitted. She knit her eyebrows together, looking perturbed. He stared at the pattern of the rug between them, his ears burning with embarrassment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He trusted Mavra. There were scarcely a dozen people he considered irreplaceable in his life, and she numbered among them. In fact she numbered quite high on that list. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why would I say something like that to her so bluntly?</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought furiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you believe me?” she asked calmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t look her in the face. He hadn’t thought this through. This was a mistake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believed that</span>
  <em>
    <span> you</span>
  </em>
  <span> believed it worked, but I thought you’d probably tested it incorrectly because you wanted it to be a real truth serum so badly,” he said, furrowing his brow and abruptly standing up. He swore under his breath and leaned on the mantle of the fireplace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room was quiet, save for the popping flames and the sigh of a curtain moving by the open window. Finally he heard Mavra gather herself and come stand beside him. He knew she was staring at his profile, but he tried to tell himself that the glowering heat on his cheek was from the fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So far you’ve only answered questions,” she said. “Try to make a statement if you can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to do this anymore.” He turned to her, hoping his eyes betrayed nothing. Every word was a battle. “It works. It works tremendously, and I’m worried I’ll say something I’ll regret. Apparently I’m full of hurtful sentiments tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew you wouldn’t trust it until you tried it yourself. That’s why we’re doing this. It’s fine,” she replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not fine!” he half-shouted, his composure faltering. “I don’t like this. I don’t want to cause you pain by saying something insulting, even if it’s for research.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s how you truly feel about me, it’s probably better that I know where I stand.” Mavra crossed her arms and looked into the fire. Her tone was impossibly even. How did she do that? He’d rather she be furious at him for doubting her, but instead it was that low, monotone voice she used when reflecting aloud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s complicated, Mavra. My cynicism is tied to who I am as a scientist, so when we do an experiment like this, I’ll always approach it with skepticism, but my doubt has nothing to do with how I truly feel about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was no follow-up question he could see coming out of her beautiful mouth that didn’t end with him telling her too much. He’d left himself entirely open. He stood in the blur of a roiling battlefield with no sword and no shield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to leave?” she asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both looked taken aback. Eugene’s gray eyes went wide. There went his chance to stop this before it got out of hand. He opened his mouth to object, to say anything else, but his mind couldn’t form another response. His thoughts reeled. His heart pounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra fixed her gaze on his and narrowed her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> you want then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One syllable. The smallest utterance to sum up what he’d felt in some form or fashion for years. Never in all that time had he ever planned on telling her. He’d envisioned what it would be like several times, but it had always been hypothetical. It certainly hadn’t been like this. Courts across the continent were constantly awash in intrigue; the lifeblood of Mavra’s job as spymaster was to sniff out people’s scandals, their weaknesses. He’d seen over and over what an ill-advised affair between two people in power could reap. Unrest. Corruption. Betrayal. He’d resolved long ago to quash his personal longing for the sake of Vranova. The love of one woman wasn’t worth risking the integrity of the council or the kingdom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least that’s what he thought he’d decided on. Now a desert flower drug was in his blood making him grapple with the fact that he desperately wanted to shirk all duty to the crown and kiss Mavra.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mouth was slightly agape at his one-word confession.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eugene-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I shouldn’t have said that,” he said, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He smiled bitterly. “It’s this damned serum. It doesn’t seem fair that I’m the only one being made to spill my guts this way-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She suddenly grabbed his wrist and held it. Her grip was solid and warm through his light linen sleeve. He looked from her hand to her face, startled and unsure of her intent. It certainly didn’t feel like a romantic gesture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> fair because I took it too,” she said. He sagged a bit. This all felt so unreal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What? </span>
  </em>
  <span>When?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I took a sublingual dose when you were prepping your syringe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to test a different delivery method-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, why didn’t you tell me you were going to take it too?” he interjected. A shadowy thought entered his mind and, unable to stop himself, he asked pointedly, “Is this why you wanted to test it? Did you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra’s jaw dropped open at the accusation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! And yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean ‘no </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> yes?’” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I didn’t suggest testing it to trick you into saying you want me, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span> I had some idea how you felt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene’s cheeks warmed and his mouth went dry. He’d always been so careful, or he thought he had. Her hand still clutched his forearm, but her hold softened as she spoke. “I’m the head of palace intelligence, Eugene. You can fool a lot of people, but you can’t fool me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stood like that for a few quiet seconds, her fingers clasped around his wrist and him just looking at her. He’d trained himself to only peer at her in quick bursts, the way you look at the sunrise. Pass the eye over it quickly. Try to take in every magnificent detail without scorching your sight. Now it seemed there was no rush. The tightness tangled around his heart melted away, and while she normally held her body with a certain amount of tension, Mavra too loosened like an unspooled bolt of ribbon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?” he finally asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you didn’t want to act on it, I wasn’t going to force your hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Placing his hand over hers felt electric. Before this, he’d have considered it a treasure to brush his fingers against hers by accident when they were studying the same scroll. To hold his palm there and not have to pull away set his heart hammering again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I acted on it?” he whispered, taking a step closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you would.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span> He closed the gap between them, gently pulling her to him. Her grasp on his arm tightened again, but this time her intention was clear. He cupped her cheek in his hand, and she leaned into his touch, deftly brushing her lips against his palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something inside him broke at that. On the rare occasion he’d imagined telling Mavra how he felt, every word and movement had been measured, calm and calculated. Now she’d pressed the smallest kiss into his hand, and when her eyes flashed hungrily up at him, his entire body burned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drew her mouth up to his, a low groan catching in his throat as she eagerly returned the kiss. Her lips were soft, parted and enthusiastic. Her fingers traveled up his arm, curling and uncurling in the fabric of his shirt. He ran his hands over her shoulders and down to the small of her back, pressing her into him till there was no firelight shining between their bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were a crush of desperate limbs, stumbling from the mantel to the desk to a  bookcase until Eugene finally lifted her up and they toppled onto his bed. He manipulated the fastenings of her doublet, still trailing kisses down the side of her throat. At some point one of them had loosened the collar of his shirt, and she passed her hand over the exposed collarbone there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shiver ran through him, and he smiled into the skin of her neck. He pulled back, suddenly determined in the flurry of grasping and fumbling to see her face again. She looked up at him with a dazed expression, eyelids heavy with want. Finally she reached up and very carefully removed his glasses, folding them up and setting them on a small bedside table before pulling him back down into her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, the clouds from earlier in the day finally broke open and started to pour across the valley. The rain was heavy and the lightning brilliant, but they couldn’t be bothered to notice.</span>
</p><p>-</p><p>
  <span>The storm lingered for hours, but eventually, the thunder settled into a dull, rumbling pattern. Occasionally a burst of cool light would flare out from behind the mountains, racing lazily across the nightscape and through Eugene’s window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flames on the hearth were flagging, painting the room with flickering amber light, but Eugene made no move to get up and stoke the embers. Mavra also seemed content to hold her place beside him in the bed, her cheek resting on his chest as he absentmindedly stroked her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In Eugene’s experience, the first time with someone was sometimes clumsy and inelegant. Learning the subtle nuances of another person’s body, listening for those tiny shifts in breath and rhythm - these weren’t things easily picked up in a single dalliance. But it had been different with Mavra. Even at its most fevered and urgent, it’d felt natural and intuitive, as if they’d been together a hundred times before. He let himself hope that he’d get to hold her like this a thousand times over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking,” he said languidly, “we should see how the serum holds up with wine. What do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She propped herself up, looking stern. “We’d be remiss not to,” she said before smiling slyly and falling back onto a pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your dedication to the research is admirable,” he replied. He sat up, shifting his legs to the side of the bed, and then paused because he didn’t know if he should stand as he was or attempt to dress. Baffled by his own sudden shyness, he sheepishly pulled on some loose pants before crossing the room to his desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt Mavra studying him as he scribbled on a piece of parchment, folded it up, and continued to the fireplace. On the wall alongside it, he opened a small hatch and reached inside. A length of rope was suspended there, and she watched as he pinned the note to it and sent it down a system of pulleys into the dark chute. Eugene answered her perplexed expression with a knowing grin. “Wine will be up shortly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How often do you do this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More often than I don’t. When do you see me taking meals in the great hall?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was true. If it wasn’t a mandatory banquet for a visiting diplomat or a holiday fete, Eugene could rarely be found at large gatherings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she could respond, they heard the quiet creak of the turning pulleys. When a small basket containing a jug of wine appeared in the darkened shaft, he dug through a container of sachets on the shelf closest to the mantel, selecting one and replacing the jug with it. He gave the rope a gentle tug and it was gone. “Levi from the kitchen’s night staff. His mother has trouble sleeping,” he explained. “A kindness for a kindness. This is a very good batch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our friend Levi won’t think it’s strange that you’re having the good wine sent up in the middle of the night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” he said, gathering two simple goblets from his study and bringing them back to the bed with the wine. He poured one glass and handed it to Mavra. “I wrote that I’d made an important discovery and wanted to celebrate right away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what did you discover exactly?” she asked, smiling into her cup as she took the first sip. Eugene felt the prickle of the serum behind his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That… uh, that you care about me the way that I care about you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra continued to grin as she took a long draught from her goblet. “I sound foolish when I have to say the absolute truth,” Eugene grumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do miss your sarcasm,” she replied, patting the empty space on the mattress where he’d been laying. He obliged. “I know you’re a hermit but I still can’t believe you have a dumbwaiter built into your chambers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m very selective about the company I keep,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll count myself lucky then.” Mavra took another sip of wine. “Levi chose very well. What is this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You like it? It’s a Myrkosi blend. Hard to get ahold of unless you know the right trader. It’s easier when I have business in the city-states, but it’s been several years,” he said, his voice dropping off at the end. He hadn’t lived in Myrkos since his adolescence, and the pangs of nostalgia didn’t strike as often as they did the first few years he was away. He put it to the serum, but peals of wistfulness were suddenly ringing out in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra nestled her bare shoulder against his, bringing him back to the present.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s it like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Myrkos? You’ve been there on reconnaissance a few times, I thought. ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but I didn’t grow up there. Tell me about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s warmer,” he said. The serum compelled him to blurt out at once all of the smells, the sensations, the flavors of his childhood, but only one could come out at a time. It was the first thing that rose up in his memory. The heat of summer burning the tops of his cheeks. That scorching sun was why he’d kept his dark brown hair close-shaven since he was a teenager.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He told her about the trees- the olives, the figs, the pomegranates, the pines. He told her about learning to sail and his first taste of spiced wine. He got quiet as he recounted his first time in the National Library of Myrkos, recalling in fierce clarity the shafts of light streaming down from the grand windows onto the scribes in the main atrium. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of his parents were Archivists for the Library, collecting and recording texts and knowledge from every corner of the continent. His family had never been terribly affectionate in a typical sense, but as he envisioned his mother’s ink-stained fingers and the smell of aged scrolls on his father’s clothes, it was as if a needle had pierced his heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How often do you hear from them?” Mavra asked. Her goblet was empty but she seemed too rapt to ask for a second glass just yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We write often actually, trading research and texts for transcription,” he replied. His own goblet was getting low so he topped them both off. “And once a year, they send me a copy of a book from the Library.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gesture sounded small on its face, but each hand-bound volume was personally scrawled by his mother and father over the course of the year. Books didn’t print themselves. He knew they spent the small hours of their free time transcribing these gifts for his personal collection, and seeing the alternating script of his parents filled him with fondness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These books?” Mavra rose from the bed and walked to his bookshelves. Her hand lingered on the spines of the very ones he’d spoken of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes,” he stammered. Where he’d been bashful about crossing the room without clothes, Mavra did not hesitate. He was a scientist. Bodies were a wonder of bone and sinew and spirit, and they were certainly nothing to be ashamed of, but it was surreal to watch the woman he’d pined after for so long casually peruse his library without a stitch on her person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had a few faded scars that he hadn’t noticed before. They lived in a somewhat turbulent world, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. He himself had a prominent scar on the left side of his face from a childhood run-in with a wild wyvern. It started above his hairline and carved its way down his forehead and eyebrow right to his jaw. He was lucky he hadn’t lost the eye altogether. His vision had suffered, but it was corrected easily enough with glasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he started to study her scars closer, Mavra cleared her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t stare.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene blushed and peered into his goblet. He heard her turning the pages of a book, and he wondered which one she’d chosen. The latest one was an epic Almazian poem about the creation of the world. He’d grown up on different myths, but he still found it incredibly beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly she asked, “Do you ever wish you’d stayed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In Myrkos?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Do you ever wish you’d gone back after your apprenticeship here? Become an Archivist like your parents?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a split second he worried what would come out of his mouth as he sat in that cloying fog of homesickness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I wouldn’t trade anything for mentoring Yula or meeting you.” He looked up, not sure how receptive she’d be to his sentimentality. She met his eyes with a small, serene smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gently re-shelved the book she’d been flipping through and made her way back to the bed, pulling the sheets up around her and tucking her head under Eugene’s chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bold of you to call the princess by her first name,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d done it without realizing. Around others he always made a point to use her title. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know she’s our princess, but I can’t stop myself from thinking of her as a child first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s not a child, Eugene. She’s a young woman now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a long sip of wine, draining his cup. Mavra laid her hand over his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You have a unique relationship; I see that. You’ve been a great teacher to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And she to me,” he said solemnly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a young man, coming to Vranova had been a rite of passage. Those interested in working for the National Library sought apprenticeships across the continent, tasked with learning all they could and then returning with something of academic value to contribute. He’d arrived in Vranovagrad a pretentious and over-eager student, quickly rising above the other alchemists-in-training. It earned him no friends, but it did gain the attention of the royal family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He’d been completely caught off guard when he was asked to become Princess Yula’s tutor. Teaching a young child held no interest for him whatsoever, and he floundered a bit trying to make polite excuses until he was promised full privileges to the oldest wings of the Royal Alchemy Institute in exchange for his services. He couldn’t refuse an offer like that, deciding that once he found what he needed, he could easily return home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There would be no homecoming for him. Vranova was home now and Yula like family. His mother’s pregnancy with him had been a difficult one, so he had no siblings. If he’d had a sister, he could’ve only dreamed she’d be half the person Yula was. She was bright and kind, full of spirit and hope. He tried to teach her how to hone her mind, and he felt like he’d mostly succeeded, but he knew the best parts of her were simply there from the start. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad one of us has a sister figure who doesn’t hate them,” Mavra sighed. She sounded tired, but not because of the late hour. He pulled her a little closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elisandre may not like you, but I don’t believe she hates you,” he said. His choice of words made him wince. He opened his mouth to apologize but she waved away the attempt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The serum’s obviously still working,” Mavra muttered. She sighed again and shifted deeper into Eugene’s side. After a few quiet moments, she continued. “When we lost our mother, she looked to me to fill a void, and I refused. I didn’t want to be someone’s mother. I just wanted mine back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were still a child, and you were grieving too. Maybe now that she’s older she underst-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat up and pulled away from him, catching him off guard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew I could never replace my mother but I could have still been a good sister. A decent person would’ve at least tried. I chose myself and what I needed and never looked back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prickly sensation rolled around inside his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Say something comforting, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he begged inwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Decent people still make mistakes,” he finally said, furtively reaching toward her arm. “You’re both still here. You can-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t,” she said, shrinking from his touch. It was more painful than he’d expected. “Don’t act like we’re the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Platitudes are easy when you’ve never done anything truly awful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowned. “I’ve never presumed to know everything you’ve done. I wish you’d return the courtesy,” he countered tersely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to believe he heard the slightest pause before she spoke, but he literally couldn’t lie to himself. She shot back without missing a beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What have you done that’s so shameful?” she asked, her voice caustic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled back a bit, straightening his shoulders without losing eye contact with Mavra. His brow was stern, but he didn’t allow himself to be angry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I created a Blight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pause that followed had a gravity. All the sound in the room rushed into it like an open drain, swirling around him as he told her everything. “It was an accident, but I couldn’t have created a more potent or terrible thing if I’d tried. It was meant to be a solution that let crops go dormant through winter and then wake up ready to produce barely a week into spring. No time lost to plowing and seeding. Food-poor regions could stabilize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But instead it rendered the soil lifeless. Whatever element renews the land after each harvest, it was destroyed utterly. This Blight was a weapon. Nothing will ever grow where it’s laid. Ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it fascinated me. I should’ve ceased all research on it. I made excuses about suspending testing to the apprentices working on it with me, inventing lies about it simply failing due to mismeasurements so they’d drop it. But I never stopped. I wanted to find out what caused it to snuff out the Primal force within the land, and I did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I burned all of the research. I’ve never told anyone. But I haven’t forgotten it. Everything I need to starve a nation is right here,” he finished, putting a single finger to his temple. “If I can help it, it’s going to die with me. It’s the thing I’m most ashamed of in my entire life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were still locked with hers. She finally tore her gaze away, looking down at the mattress instead. The fire was really faltering now, and he saw the gooseflesh rising in waves on her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After an uncomfortable silence, he moved as if to add wood to the hearth, but she quickly clasped his arm and held it firm. She leaned into him, burying her face in his shoulder but not speaking. Her skin was cool to the touch, like marble under his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The worst thing I ever did-” she started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mavra, you don’t have to-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve done a lot of terrible things— awful things,” she continued, “but the worst thing I ever did was tell my father that everyday I wish he had died instead of my mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice trembled but didn’t break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes we say things we don’t mean,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant it, dammit!” she said, peering up at him with glossy eyes. “It was during a terrible argument, and I knew it would hurt him. What kind of person says that to their father? What kind of monster</span>
  <em>
    <span> means</span>
  </em>
  <span> it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d expected her darkest confession to be a botched assassination or ruining an undeserving noble’s reputation. He could’ve soothed a shortcoming like that by attributing it to duty, to her commitment to the crown, or bad intel. What absolution could he help her find? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took her face in his hands, stroking his thumb gently across her cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think I’m terrible?” she asked in a choked tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The serum didn’t warm the inside of his skull like before. The pinpricks of gentle heat didn’t illuminate upon a single answer. At some point in the last few minutes, it had reached the end of its efficacy. He was free to lie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. You’ve done bad things,” he said with a melancholy smile, “but you aren’t bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked a few times, struggling to ensure the tears in her eyes did not fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to believe you,” she replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled back and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. Her cheek, her brow, her mouth. Their embrace was slow and comforting and warm, carrying on long after the last embers on the hearth finally burned down to nothing. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Conclusion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We have our answer.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Eugene opened his eyes, blinking blearily into the dawn coming through his window, he was alone in his chambers. His body was still curled around the shallow indentation on the bed where Mavra had been, but the tousled sheets and furs there were cool to the touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled onto his back and took in a lungful of morning air. It was like a long draught of cold spring water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was gone, but she’d been here. They’d been here together. He smiled as the sentiment passed through his brain again and again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat up and settled on the edge of the bed, putting on his glasses and sliding his feet into the mule slippers beside the nightstand. The sun was rising rapidly, filling the room with shafts of warm morning light. As he opened the window behind his desk, up drifted the distant chatter of traders and grocers making their daily deliveries to the palace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As difficult as it was, he needed to leave his feelings about the evening behind and prepare for the council meeting taking place later that morning. As he searched his desk for a slip of parchment to send a meal request down to the kitchen, he saw a piece of paper was already there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dread gripped his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snatched it, reading the words hurriedly as if they would quash the cold feeling in his gut.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>See you at the council meeting.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>M</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath and sank heavily into his chair. Why had his heart seized up when he saw it? Doubt had found no foothold in his mind until now, but his first thought, his first </span>
  <em>
    <span>fear</span>
  </em>
  <span>, had been that the note would dismiss what had happened between them, that she’d ask him to never speak about it again to her or anyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the note was completely innocuous. It was smart of her to leave before the halls were full of servants who might ask questions. She could have slipped out without leaving anything, but instead she stopped to write him something. This was good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heartbeat still felt strained. A pressure was building in his chest, and now the thought of taking breakfast soured his insides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened a drawer and stashed the note therein.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were apart frequently on assignments. Aside from their collaboration on alchemical matters, their work rarely took them to the same places. The weeks he went without seeing her were long, but her absence had caused only a dull ache before, a kind of boredom without her and a wonder at what she was doing. It was dormant and calm - a silent devotion to the idea that she was somewhere in the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now he’d consciously been without her not even an hour and anxiety made his pulse race. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked out the window toward the mountains. A few minutes passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This didn’t have to be a fragile thing. It might be complicated and it might be difficult, but there was no need for undue suffering. It would be fine. They’d make it work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally he stood up and continued to prepare for the day.</span>
</p><p>-</p><p>
  <span>The palace guards standing on either side of the council chamber nodded furtively at Eugene as he passed between them. It was a gesture to alert him that the king and queen were already inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room’s tall windows let ample sunlight fall across the low marble table where they would all gather. The cool stone floor was layered in fine rugs of deep green, blush, and gold, and the mosaic-tiled walls glinted with teals and blues. At the far end of the chamber, taller than the velvety stools lining the table, were two ornately carved chairs, and seated in them were King Yurik and Queen Marideh, the rulers of Vranova. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Almost everyone was assembled around the table. Elisandre and her father Admiral Vigtor Vidov were pouring over a stack of maps. Princess Yula, seated beside her parents, had been leaning across to see the papers as well, but she turned as Eugene approached and beamed up at him. He smiled back. It was true that she’d grown into an impressive young woman, but the childlike crinkle of her nose when she grinned made it all too easy to see her as his spritely young pupil instead of a powerful monarch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And of course, Mavra was there. He noticed her immediately, pushed back from the table beside Elsie, but he didn’t let his gaze linger on her long. When he reached the end of the table, he bowed reverently to the king and queen before settling into his place across from the Vidovs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra’s eyes flickered up to meet his. The gesture was brief, but the tiniest smile turned up the corners of her lips. The strange anxiety plaguing him evaporated at the sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As quickly as his mood lifted, it plummeted again when he saw Vizier Osyen enter the council room. Given his acumen in foreign affairs, his attendance was appropriate, but Eugene had always found him loathsome. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osyen lowered himself into a seat beside Yula, leaning toward her with a cloying smile. His sandy blonde hair was pulled back in intricate plaits; every part of his appearance was groomed and stylish. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A pleasure as always, Princess,” he said. She nodded back politely. Eugene had never heard her speak ill of Osyen, but he sensed some apprehension between them now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After an uneasy pause, King Yurik reached over and patted Yula’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now that the council’s convened, we should begin. We’ll see you after, Yula,” he said. His voice was gentle, but his meaning was clear. It was time for the princess to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to stay, if you’ll allow it,” she replied, looking from one parent to the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene could see the King’s mind turning different phrasing to and fro. Yurik was kind above all else, and he doted on Yula, so it must’ve been difficult for him to tell her that this was a meeting he did not want her present for. Her mother’s tongue was much quicker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not this time, Yula. We’ll tell you everything you need to know once we’ve concluded,” Queen Marideh said cooly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can I be expected to rule one day when you never-” Yula began to retort but Marideh held up a hand. The motion sent a ripple of terse silence through the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you wish to be more involved in diplomatic affairs,” she said, each word measured and firm. “But today is not the day. Do I make myself clear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yula stared back at the Queen for a moment before briskly standing up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Mother.” She exited the room, the weight of the chamber door echoing behind her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>King Yurik cleared his throat, trying to quell the uncomfortable stillness left by the princess’s departure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad to see you all,” he began, “But I am anxious to hear your report from Shuran.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish the news were brighter,” said Admiral Vidov. “Mavra and her agents collected a wealth of intel from their informants, but it paints a very contentious picture.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Queen Marideh touched her chin, her face contorting with concern as she said, “Surely it’s not already so dire that nothing can be done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra sat forward, spreading her palms against the map centered on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If Shuran continues to aid Dymia, there’s little hope for Almazia. They simply can’t withstand a prolonged assault from such a well-supplied army,” she explained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Queen’s frown deepened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand why Dymia has suddenly taken such an interest in conquest. What did your informants have to say about the reason for these strikes? Why break the peace?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s difficult to pin down. Dymian officials will barely even acknowledge the aggression, but those we’ve been able to interrogate believe that they have more to offer Almazians than the current monarchy,” said Mavra.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marideh openly sneered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What could they possibly provide to the people that my brother and his family haven’t already? Dymia can’t even survive without imports from kingdoms like Shuran. It’s a barren tundra. They must be after resources.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Elsie put her hand down on the table, indicating that she wished to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Majesties,” she began, “I would suggest a blockade to stop trade between Shuran and Dymia. If we can cut off their shipments, Dymia’s forces would be significantly weakened. It’d give Almazia a chance to regroup while we do more reconnaissance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osyen clicked his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Breaking their supply chain is too aggressive. The Dymians will see that we can’t remain impartial and use it as an excuse to expand their encroachment to Vranova,” he said, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if we concentrate on the Shurani-Almazian border?” Elsie asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By land, by sea, either Shuran or Dymia’s border with Almazia - any interference will be interpreted as an act of war,” Osyen insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene leaned forward, studying the trade lines that crisscrossed the map.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if we were more subtle?” he suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you mean?” Osyen said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mavra already has contacts and agents posted on several of these trade routes. If shipments were to be delayed or go missing due to bandits or destroyed passages,” Eugene explained, “we could cut off Dymia without having it directly tied to us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sabotage,” Admiral Vigtor clarified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not without promise,” Queen Marideh said, but she leaned warily on the armrest of her chair. Her body language didn’t speak confidence to the plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’ll avoid more bloodshed, I think we should give it a chance,” King Yurik offered. “I hate to see Almazia suffer this way but I’m not ready to risk Vranova getting involved in a war with the empire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not enough,” Mavra remarked curtly. Everyone turned to her, and they saw that her countenance was dark and serious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not perfect, but it’s our best approach,” Eugene said. “It’s discreet enough-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You say ‘discreet’; I hear ‘ineffective’,” Mavra replied. She gestured to a dozen spots on the map. “My people would need to be incredibly widespread for Shuran to not notice a pattern, and even then it would only slow the trade routes, not halt them entirely. It would require maximum effort and manpower for minimal gain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene tried not to sulk. Niceties were not something Mavra employed during the calmest council meetings, so there was no hope they’d come into play now that urgency hung over their heads like a heavy fog. He couldn’t take her bluntness personally even if it was painful to have that stony gaze set upon him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ser Mavra, I’ll defer to your judgement on the use of your agents, but please understand that things are dire in Almazia. If you object to the Lord Alchemist’s suggestion, do you have something in mind?” asked King Yurik. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra scrutinized the chart on the table, passing her hand thoughtfully over the yellow swirling patterns that represented the deserts of Shuran. Her fingers trailed along a delta and then swept around the curve of the coast to the green valleys of Vranova. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need them to worry more about sustaining themselves than selling goods to Dymia,” Mavra said quietly. She was trained on the river that fanned out of Shuran and into the sea. Something was simmering in her mind. “Despite the arid climate, they’ve been able to take advantage of irrigation and yearly floods to keep their farmland productive. They’re stable but it’s deceptively precarious. I’ve seen the locals fret when the rain is only a few days late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked from her father to the King and Queen. “If we destabilize their crop economy, they’ll be forced to redirect supplies to their own people because there won’t be enough to sell to Dymia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are we supposed to do that? We can’t control the rainy season,” Osyen snickered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra’s eyes snapped to Eugene’s. It felt like cold water coursing through his heart when she said it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eugene developed a man-made Blight. We can use it to stop Shuran’s aid to Dymia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air shifted. Eugene felt it move around him when the other council members turned their attention to him, but he struggled to speak. His olive complexion went ashen and his body was strangely cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, he heard King Yurik say, “Is this true, Lord Alchemist?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-It is,” Eugene stammered, “but I don’t know if it would be useful here. I never fully researched how to deploy it-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would!” Mavra exclaimed. She was smiling. “A group of agents can sow it by night and be gone. Or we could drop it from low-flying wyverns and be back across the bay in a day’s time. A concentrated, covert attack with far-reaching effects!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is my concern, Mavra. The Blight is extremely powerful. The consequences might be unpredictable,” Eugene countered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long does the Blight last?” Admiral Vidov asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene paused and looked down. “Indefinitely as far as I can tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t remember sanctioning research on something like this,” Queen Marideh said in a low voice. Her disgust was patent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I apologize, Your Majesty. It was the unintended result of another project. I didn’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will not pursue this strategy,” King Yurik said suddenly. Not one to interrupt or raise his voice, even the Queen was visibly startled by the terse quality of his tone. “This conflict will not last forever. I will not allow a scheme that continues to harm a nation’s most vulnerable even after this is resolved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He stared earnestly at Eugene. “I’m disappointed that you would develop a weapon like this. I hope it was a momentary lapse in judgement, Lord Alchemist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene straightened his posture, letting the admonishment crash painfully against his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hush fell over the council until finally Admiral Vidov cleared his throat and spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid we’re no closer to a solution.” He smoothed the corner of the map closest to him and Elsie. Hands clasped reverently in her lap, she turned to the royal couple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve attempted to covertly read the situation,” said Elsie. “If we truly wish to avoid a major conflict, it may be best to speak plainly with their leaders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osyen opened his mouth to object, but Elsie continued to speak. “We can send Osyen and a few retainers along as goodwill ambassadors. I will accompany them, as well as a small troop of Wyvern Knights for protection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we need to make some kind of grand gesture to make this worthwhile,” Osyen finally cut in. “They’re familiar with me and I them. They are a resolute people and will not change their minds with a stern objection alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t exactly send the King and Queen to prove our commitment to a resolution. We can’t spare anyone else with the situation as precarious as it is,” Elsie replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go!”</span>
</p><p><span>The princess’s clear voice split the air, and by the time everyone turned to see where it was coming from, Yula had already emerged from her hiding spot near the council room entrance. Eugene’s stomach dropped.  </span><em><span>How long had she been there?</span></em> <em><span>How much had she heard?</span></em></p><p>
  <span>Queen Marideh stood with such force that her chair nearly toppled backward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yula, explain yourself! I told you to leave these discussions to us,” she barked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The princess faced off with her mother from the opposite end of the table. Her eyes sparkled, and the defiant energy radiating off her was like lightning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t stand idle while the threat against our realm multiplies out of control. If I wait for you to finally see that I’m not a child, it may be too late,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Queen Marideh curled her fists and planted them on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll stop treating you like a child when you stop acting like one! We dismiss you only to have you return and cause a spectacle in front of the entire council. How is this display supposed to convince me that you’re ready for such responsibility?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to show you that I won’t give up! I can do this! Who better to convince Shuran that there’s a way to peace than someone who will inherit the outcome of these choices?” Yula argued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The queen paused, sighed, and then the tension left her face as she turned and delivered a pleading look to her husband. He returned it with a small shrug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osyen gave a small cough to bring attention to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t wish to speak out of turn, but I think it would actually be a very powerful gesture to have the princess go to Shuran as our diplomat-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All due respect, Osyen, but I don’t think an assignment like this is appropriate for someone without any experience. It’d be delicate even for you, one of our most seasoned dignitaries,” Mavra interjected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elsie frowned at her sister. “I agree with Osyen. I think you’re just sore that the King rejected you and Eugene’s plan to poison the locals.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knight-Commander, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene tried to speak, but several council members began talking at once, creating a low, cacophonous din of voices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yula’s rose above the others, and knowing better than to speak over royalty, the miniature arguments were quashed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s true that I haven’t travelled as an envoy before, but I know I can do this if you’ll only give me the chance. I’ve studied their customs, their language, their history.” She looked down the table to Eugene. He felt weak but managed a supportive smile. “I’ve been given all the resources needed to represent Vranova. Please, Mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Queen Marideh sank into her chair and began slowly rubbing her left temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We would need a much larger military attache to accompany you if- </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she put a harsh emphasis on the second if, “we allowed this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Myself and a squadron of our finest Wyvern Knights would be more than honored to escort the princess,” Elsie beamed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eugene,” said King Yurik, “would you accompany her as well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” he replied, nodding. “If that’s your wish, I’d be happy to travel at her side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The king imparted a gentle smile, but Eugene still felt the chill of his scolding from just a few minutes earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marideh raised her right hand while still cradling her head in the other. This was obviously not the outcome she had expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This council meeting is dismissed for now. If we’re to follow this course of action, there are many more discussions to be had and preparations to be made. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> is set in stone yet,” she said, looking sternly at Yula who was vibrating with excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone began collecting their things and preparing to make their leave. The princess jumped to Eugene, taking his hands and smiling widely up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so glad you’ll be with me in Shuran!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced furtively over her to the king and queen who were whispering to each other in animated bursts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If they agree to let you be our emissary, I’ll be proud to see your work firsthand.” Yula’s expression softened at his use of</span>
  <em>
    <span> if, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and she too peered over at her parents bickering. Eugene gently turned her face back towards him. “Don’t think poorly of them, Yula. I’m sure their apprehension is more about your safety than your ability to lead. They know you’re capable of incredible things. I do too,” he said with a soft smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her grin perked back up and she squeezed both of his hands. Across the room he saw Mavra looking back at him. He tried to read her face, but before he could, she turned to leave the council chamber. The cold washed over him again, but he covered it as best he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your parents will want to speak with you alone,” he said, “so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take my leave. I’m afraid I haven’t been feeling well today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene hadn’t been in his room long before there was a soft rapping at the door. The sound set his teeth on edge. He stood at the door for several seconds, took a deep breath and finally turned the lock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra gently brushed past him; she must’ve missed his dour manner because she still wore her customary wry smile. He noticed a small sachet in her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re the master alchemist, but since you were feeling less than stellar after last night I thought I’d bring you something for the hangover,” she said. “It tastes awful but it works like a charm. I couldn’t help but feel a little responsible for your state.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each playful syllable was a jab in the ribs. Finally, when he thought her smile would never quit, it faltered. “You really do look poorly,” she said, reaching up to touch his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without realizing it, he flinched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She withdrew her hand and stepped back. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mavra, what were you thinking telling the council about the Blight?” he snapped. “I told you something I hated myself for,</span>
  <em>
    <span> in confidence</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and you couldn’t keep it to yourself for even a day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He expected her gaze to harden, but her face remained calm and tender at the accusation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re not proud of it, but what if we could’ve used it for good-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For good?” he scoffed. “No good can ever come of a weapon like that! That’s the whole point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t condescend to me, Eugene. Do you think Shuran doesn’t know what their aid is costing Almazia? We can’t be precious about how we interfere if it strategically hurts someone more deserving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a frustrated sigh and began pacing to the windows and back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you see how the king and queen looked at me? Like I was a monster.” He stopped in front of Mavra. “And what if Yula heard? Who knows how long she was hiding in the vestibule-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mavra calmly took his face in her hands and said in a steady but somber voice, “There is going to be a war, and it could cost us much. You have to let go of how people may perceive you if we’re going to protect what’s important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d wanted this. For so long he’d dreamt what it would be like to stand this close and not make an excuse to pull away. He could take in every eyelash, every freckle on her cheek without having to avert his gaze after a measly second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d wanted this but always told himself it was a bad idea and it couldn’t happen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He managed to keep his hands from trembling as he guided hers away from his face. His voice sounded distant and alien to his own ear when he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t be together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For all her foresight, all of her calculating shrewdness, Mavra’s eyes betrayed genuine surprise. She snatched her hands from his grip as if she’d been stung by a wasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just like that? Because of this one thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because now I feel like I can’t trust you, but I need to. You said it yourself, and… and you’re right. A war is inevitable. This isn’t the time to muddy our judgement with romantic entanglements. It’s smarter if we carry on like this never happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t argue or shout. Like a creature from the old tales, she turned stone-like in the eyes. He could see nothing behind her stare. It was impenetrable and aloof. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sounds from outside filled the silence. The jingle of silverware as servants filed through the halls for meal service. Someone yelled about a broken cart in the courtyard below. Wind from the mountainside buffeted against a loose pane of window glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please say something,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have anything to say. You’ve made up your mind. We’re not together,” she responded coolly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mavra, try to understand. Don’t you see how complicated this already is, even after just one day of letting ourselves have this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sliver of malice broke through her mask of hostile serenity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> complicated. Everything is in the open between us now, and you can’t handle what that means. You don’t have the gall to see things as they really are. You act like I’m the deceitful one when it was you who couldn’t be honest without the serum forcing it out of you,” she sneered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not fair. You took it too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I lied.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene’s guts flipped; his vision blackened at the edges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t take the serum last night,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes widened enough for her to see where his brain was taking this confession. “I felt badly that you thought I’d trapped you into confessing, so I let you think I’d taken it too. A white lie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then everything you said-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything else I said was true, but I told you how I felt because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to. I didn’t need a chemical crutch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More tense quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what to believe,” Eugene finally huffed. “You could be saying this to hurt me, to get under my skin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you think I want to hurt you? I told you that I meant what I said-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you lied about the serum. There’s no way to prove-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prove what? That I care about you? Why can’t you just believe me when I tell you that I do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eugene looked out the window. The day was so bright. The beautiful clouds and lush valley outside looked expansive, while inside this room he felt a huge weight pressing down on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to believe you,” he murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stoic exterior she’d put up abated so slightly, offering him one last chance to reach out, to save himself from the pyre of agony he was building around his heart, but he hesitated. With his doubt laid bare before her, he saw Mavra’s heart shutter to him and the match dropped. All hope and joy from the night previous immolated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t bring himself to watch her leave, instead hyper-focusing on the blue sky beyond his window until the sound of the door latch shutting jarred him out of his trance. He clenched and unclenched his fists, crossed the room to the door, held the handle, let it go. Every movement felt exaggerated and futile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He imagined running after her. He saw himself embracing her and moving on, being happy. He visualized himself forgiving her, reconciling the fact that she wasn’t perfect with the truth that he wasn’t either. His mind painted pathway after pathway, each scenario more detailed and beautiful than the last, but they were just pictures in his head. He knew he wouldn’t walk any of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his back pressed to the chamber door, he slid to the floor. Through the bank of windows opposite him, flocks of white birds undulated around the blue-green mountain peaks. He looked at them for a long time without really seeing them.</span>
</p>
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